


Water Therapy

by WetSammyWinchester



Series: Secret Rooms in the Bunker [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Dean Winchester, Fluff, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Skinny Dipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:52:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7807987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WetSammyWinchester/pseuds/WetSammyWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Bunker is filled with secret rooms. Sam explores while Dean makes Sunday breakfast. </p><p>Written for the prompt - wincest + water + fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	Water Therapy

It was their Sunday morning routine. Dean would make breakfast while Sam explored their new home, sorting through endless dusty boxes and shelves. His brother’s favorite project right now was sketching a blueprint of the Bunker, but between Sam’s less than impressive drawing skills and cryptic abbreviations, it looked more like a child’s treasure map.

“Sam, what do you want to eat?” Dean called out as he walked along the grey-tiled hallway, sticking his head in each room.

That’s when he heard it. Sam’s laughter.

Dean jogged towards the gun range and saw an unmarked door that stood open ahead. The two of them must have walked by this recess a hundred times, and always assumed it was an electrical closet given all the black conduit running next to it. As he stepped inside the room, he was greeted by a wall of humidity and the sight of his little brother sitting on the edge of a small pool, dipping his hand in the water.

“Dean, look, we have a pool.” Sam laughed again, and as Dean walked up, Sam grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand down into the warm water. Dean yanked it back as if bitten by a snake.

“How do you know that’s safe? It could be a containment tank for, oh, I don’t know, Sam… water spirits or some other crap.”

Sam gave him a fond smile. “What, like Ghostbusters but for naiads and nix?”

Sam laughed again as he moved past Dean to open a metal locker along the wall, pulling out a small pair of blue briefs with yellow piping and a white string tie along with a striped bath towel.

“I think it’s the Men of Letters bathhouse.”

“Bathhouse?” Dean wrinkled up his nose at the thought of those old men scrubbing each other’s backs.

“Think of it like a hot tub.” Sam shook the swimsuit playfully in his hand. “Could be fun to try it out.”

“Oh, hell no. I don’t wear Speedos.”

“They’re not Speedos. They’re… retro.” Sam set the swimsuit and the towel down by the side of the little tiled pool and sat at its edge, fascinated by the play of lights on the water surface. “Either it’s a natural hot spring or they used some heating system that I can’t figure out.”

Sam had lost his smile a bit, as if his brother’s practicality were a physical weight bringing him down, and Dean felt compelled to fix it.

“All right. We’ll try it out. But no little ‘retro’ swimsuits.”

“Really? We haven’t skinny dipped since I was 16 on that trip to Canada.” Sam sounded doubtful but his dimples made a reappearance.

Five minutes later, their clothes lay piled together at the foot of the bath and the brothers sat side by side, towels rolled up under their necks, eyes closed, their feet tangled at the bottom of pool.

He felt his brother shift in the water next to him and without opening his eyes, Dean reached out his hand, finding the familiarity of Sam’s shoulder. Sam settled at the touch and Dean moved his fingers further up to tangle without purpose in the curls along Sam’s neck.

“I could get used to this.” Sam’s voice was sleepy.

“Me, too, Sammy. Me, too.”


End file.
